
Bad Guys, Furry Critters & Booze-Proof Newhall
Yay, hooray, a yippee coyote and three chimpanzee backflips without losing my hat. Good to see all y’all.
Yay, hooray, a yippee coyote and three chimpanzee backflips without losing my hat. Good to see all y’all.
No. 48 in a series of 52 commemorating the 100-year anniversary of The Signal “If you kill the arts, you kill love, and you kill progress.” — Brendon Urie The
For most football players, or, for that matter, oboists, it’s harder to get a second napkin in a Chinese restaurant than an NFL tryout. Colin Kaepernick has been out of
Good darn thing these few hundred thousand ponies are trained to stay in place with but a mere clearing of the throat. Think my hand would get tired holding all those reins.
No. 47 in a series of 52 commemorating the 100-year anniversary of The Signal “The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way
Years ago, I had a gal pal. She was a competent, flirty-skirty attorney. We agreed on many things, except of course, politics. Being a lawyer, she passionately loved debate. Or
Good heavens, time is speeding by. Halloween’s over, Thanksgiving’s around the bend and Christmas is not too far beyond that. And we’re still basking in Indian summer weather.
“Marxists are people whose insides are torn up day after day because they want to rule the world and no one will even publish their letter to the editor.” —
I’m a terribly sentimental fellow, which is not a bad thing. I don’t sob hysterically, fondly recalling a New England Patriots Super Bowl victory. But, a silly smile forms when
Right off the bat, check your holsters and ammo. We’re going to capture Buffalo Tom for perpetrating one of the biggest train robberies in American history.
No. 45 in a series of 52 commemorating the 100-year anniversary of The Signal “I’m tired of hearing about money. Money. Money. Money. Money. All I want to do is
Here’s a shameless plug. Every Saturday for nearly a year, I’ve been writing 2,000-words-plus on the century-old history of this most wonderful newspaper, The Mighty Signal. When I finish, wordy
Oof and foof. Hope all of you have the smoke coughed out of your lungs by now. Prayers, hugs, whatever it takes, for all of you who lost more than treasure during last week’s fires.
No. 44 in a series of 52 commemorating the 100-year anniversary of The Signal “Catch on fire and people will come for miles to see you burn.” — John Wesley
Thought you beloved SCV people should know before you read it in the tabloids. I’m running for the Santa Clarita Valley’s recently vacated 25th Congressional District seat, provided, of course,
I’m guessing summer is ignoring our insistent coughing noises and is taking its jolly old good time leaving the house and getting on a flight to annoy some other relative.
No. 43 in a series of 52 commemorating the 100-year anniversary of The Signal “Like any normal 5th-grader, I preferred my villains to be evil and stay that way, to
Robert Burns has been the official high holy poet of Scotland for a couple hundred years. His pals called him “Rabbie,” with the annoying and obligatory Scottish rolling of the
Not counting volcanic eruptions, tidal waves or dinosaurs crawling out of Earth’s steaming crevices in a biblical prediction, there’s not really a bad day to ride a horse. It’s fall. Finally. Beautiful day to climb aboard the saddle, wiggle in, laugh and chat with friends and neighbors.
No. 42 in a series of 52 commemorating the 100-year anniversary of The Signal “Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black
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